The smell of blood! The metallic scent soaking into every corner of the alley wanders aimlessly in the same spot. In the eyes of the one holding the knife, there is murderous intent, immense wariness, and emotions as thin as a wire. Their night is chased by dreams of sticky, lingering regrets. The deprivation of childhood and the haze of misfortune that seeped in since infancy, long before memory begins. They simply stare at the bloodstains on the knife, being washed away by the heavy rain that feels like it's piercing through their body. They quietly grip the gleaming kitchen knife and slump down onto the ground. Rainwater dripping from their hair falls silently. Their corneas are burning under the trajectory of a pale sun.

A monstrous drowsiness washes over. If they fall asleep right here, they might just die like that. A blade might aim for the gaps in their neck, slicing away their flesh piece by piece like preparing sashimi. A muzzle might be pressed into their mouth and fired, turning them into the Little Mermaid. Or, their eyes might be plucked out, just as they had done to others. If they could feel nothing like that——

Humans become infinitely pathetic in the face of their instincts. Just as they are about to drift into a hazy sleep with their eyes closed.